


the office piggy

by amber_management



Category: Original Work
Genre: Baked Goods, Belly Rubs, Body Worship, Enthusiastic Consent, Fivesome - M/M/M/M/M, Force-Feeding, Gen, Hand Feeding, Messy eating, Milkshakes, No Sex, Oral Fixation, Pet Names, Stuffing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-17 13:48:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28975374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amber_management/pseuds/amber_management
Summary: if rich had known that it was so easy to be the office piggy, then he would have begged for it a long time ago
Kudos: 32





	the office piggy

It had started slowly, and suddenly. So much so that Rich hadn't even realized it was happening until it was too late.

He had always been a rather big guy, and he worked in an office space full of fit, thinner people, so he stuck out like a sore thumb. But he thought that his relationship with his team was as normal as could be, and that the way they stared at him sometimes with a strange look in their eye was just them politely assessing how big he was and probably whispering behind his back. It was only natural. And he wouldn't really stop them even if he wanted to. He had never gotten attention, good or bad, so coming to this place and having people stare at him all day felt a little good.

But this place was unlike anywhere he had ever worked before, in more ways than one.

It was clear from day one that despite his size, he was everyone's favourite. An everyone was just so damn touchy that he hardly knew what to do with it all. Any time someone would lean over his shoulder to help him with something on the computer, they would rest a hand on his tummy for stability, and he was always embarrassed about it, but nobody mentioned anything and neither did he. Someone would always leave a box of doughnuts or a family-sized bag of chips on his desk, and once, a whole cake as if it was his birthday! but he hadn't had breakfast that day, and he hadn't had the heart to tell them that his birthday was a week ago.

Sometimes, though he would never admit it gave him a thrill, they would slap his ass as he passed them, and his butt would jiggle and shake with the force of it, and they would turn away, chuckling to themselves. He wasn't sure why he enjoyed that so much. It was that sick, twisted part of him that craved attention.

Sometimes, he saw them passing money to each other under their desks, shooting glances at him as he ate mindlessly at his desk, and they would whisper to each other while watching. He tried not to pay too much attention.

Today must have been a special day. Instead of sitting at their desks and typing away at their computers or taking phone calls, everyone was standing around his station, waiting for him to arrive. When he did, all eyes turned to him and they all got this wanton, desperate look of desire on their face that Rich just couldn't pick.

Hey guys," he greeted with a laugh as he placed his bag on his desk. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," Thomas smiled. All the guys were really nice, but Rich had always liked Thomas. "We were just waiting for you."

"For me?" Rich repeated in disbelief. "What for? If you had told me, I would have come in earlier."

But he was mostly ignored. "We know how much you like to eat," Sam said. "And, frankly, we like to watch you eat. Like, a lot. We've been making bets around the office on how much we could get you to eat in a day, and you never disappoint."

Rich felt his face heat up. He was reminded about the secretive exchange of money, and the hushed whisperers. "I-"

"Boxes of doughnuts, bags of chips, burgers and butterscotch lollies and cake and cheese platters," Robert listed. "It's actually quite impressive how much you can pack away when you're not trying. And we like watching you eat. Did you know that? Did you know that we watch you?"

"N-no," Rich spluttered. "No, I didn't know that. What's this all about?"

Sam pulled out Rich's desk chair. "Come, sit," he said. "We've got a surprise for you. A sweet treat all for you."

Rich should be freaking out right now. He should be so weirded out that he was spinning on his heel and high-tailing it out of there and never looking back. But their words had made his whole body heat up like a furnace, and he found himself taking unsure, slow steps towards them. He had no idea what they had in store for him or what they wanted, but there was no doubt that their words had done something to him that he didn't even know was possible.

He sat down on his desk chair, the arms wider than a usual chair from his large hips pushing them outwards for the last few weeks, and stared around at all his co-workers in stunned silence. On his desk, instead of his computer and notes, was a pink box labelled with the local bakery, and a giant chocolate milkshake, topped with whipped cream and sprinkles, dripping condensation onto the desk.

Simon leant over him, so close that he was breathing on Rich's neck, and lent into his ear. "Surely you've noticed how much we like to touch you, like to be near you, like to watch you. Now, we are going to feed you, and we want you to sit there and take everything we give you like a good little piggy."

Gasping, Rich tried to look around at the suddenly very attractive men standing above him, but someone's finger was slipped into his mouth, covered in chocolate sauce, and all thoughts flew from his mind as he sucked on the chocolate and groaned around the finger. This was, in all honestly, everything he has ever wanted. No way in hell was he going to decline an amazing offer like this.

He hadn't even noticed his eyes had fluttered shut, his lips still sealed around the long-clean finger, until it was pulled from his mouth and a whine escaped his lips. "So?" Sam asked, suddenly unsure. "We've turned off the cameras if you're worried about that. What do you say?"

"I say," Rich said breathlessly, hopefully, desperately. "That this is the best day of my life."

Grinning giddily with each other, the men manoeuvered around Rich until they were touching every inch of him- Sam had a hand on his belly, just resting on his many folds. Simon had his hands on his plush cheeks, fondling the softness. Robert was circling his mouth with a finger, parting his lips delicately. Thomas had one hand on his thick jaw and the other reached forward to lift the lid off the pink bakery box.

Resting enticingly inside was a double layer chocolate mud cake, filled with thick buttercream and topped with melted chocolate drizzle and sprinkles and chocolate pieces, written in the centre with white chocolate was, 'little piggy.'

Thomas looked at Rich's expression with a glint in his eye. "Like it?" he asked. Rich could barely nod. His mouth was so full of drool that he thought it might be pooling down his face just at the sight of it. He couldn't wait to taste it. He reached a hand out towards it, expecting to eat it without cutlery or plates when Thomas stopped him with two fingers in his mouth. "Ah-ah. Not like that, little biggy. Well, you won't be so little when we're done with you. No, you sit back and just let us take care of you."

Tingling from his head to his toes, Rich groaned pitifully as the hands pressing down on his tongue were once again removed, and they laughed at his neediness. He had expected them to at least cut the cake into pieces and feed it to him like that, but not, Thomas dug his whole hand into the cake, ruining the decorations, and came back with a crumbled fist-full of delicious mud cake. Bits fell from his fingers to land on Rich's lap. He had his mouth opened before he could think about it, and he felt more than heard them chuckle as Thomas bought the cake to his lips.

It was sweet and rich, and dense and he took him time chewing it, savouring the taste. It took longer than he thought it would, and he realized that this task may be harder than he expected. Laughing, Thomas held his lips closed as he methodically chewed and swallowed, and wiped his hand across his face, smearing buttercream and crumbs across his mouth. Rich licked it off and Thomas's eyes were blown wide with desire.

Things became a bit of a blur.

There were hands on him, so many hands. Someone was rubbing his stomach, kneading the flesh and shaking his girth and fondling his folds. Someone was grinding against his thigh. Someone had their hands around his mouth and against his throat, lightly, feeling the way he chewed and swallowed. He had eaten more delicious cake in one sitting than he ever had before, but while he was starting to feel the tell-tale tightness in his gut, he still felt hungry, and he gobbled down bite after greedy bite of cake.

Sam unbuttoned his shirt, pulling it from his shoulders. Thomas climbed onto his lap and pulled the cake closer, not letting him finish his previous mouthful before he shoved more into his hungry maw. There was a point where Rich could hardly breathe, overwhelmed with the sensations and the food and the hands all over him.

Simon dug his fingers into the meat of him, shaking and pulling and moving him in such a way that it went straight to his groin. He had never had anyone touch him like that. Nobody had ever dared stick their hands between his folds or carry his aching, sensitive underbelly, or hold his gut like he was pregnant with child and marvel at it like it was a globe of the earth. Teeth sunk into him, not enough to hurt but just enough for him to feel it. He moaned around the mouthful of cake as he gripped his love handles and shook him like a magic 8 ball.

At some point, he couldn't remember when, Robert leant into him, his hands roving all around his plush chest and whispered in his ear, "Good job, piggy, you're halfway done."

He didn't have time to contemplate what that meant before another glob of the cake was being shoved past his lips.

He wasn't sure how long he sat there, eating what was- literally- handed to him, but he did know that he was absolutely stuffed. His gut was hard and swollen, filled with so much cake he thought he was going to burst. There were hands all over him, soothing the aches and pains and gently massaging his flesh in ways that made him spark all over like he had stuck his tongue in a toaster. He felt so heavy and so sated, he wasn't sure if he would be able to get out of the chair unless they tore it off of him. He reached a hand down and slid it across his thighs to cradle his underbelly, to hold his girth in his hands, and was amazed at the taut feeling of his packed tummy. If he was big before, he was absolutely stuffed today. He felt larger than he ever had before and his belly alone was so big he couldn't see his toes. He had been completely and utterly gorged. Every breath came in short pants, and sharp pains shot up his side as his lung struggled to expand with all the cake pressing down on him, and honestly, it was one of the best feelings he had ever experienced.

But all of a sudden, the cake stopped coming, and he whined at the loss of food. The men surrounding him cooed and fingers were pressed between his lips, pressing on his tongue and touching all around the inside of his mouth. He licked and sucked at them like a baby on a pacifier, content.

Without the constant onslaught of food, he was more aware of the feeling of so many hands gently rubbing at his belly, soothing all the pain away and kissing the many layers of fat, sinking their fingers into his softness. Someone- Sam if the scruff was any indication- actually had to lift his gut like an apron to get both his hands under there, and licked at the warm, swollen underbelly. Rich groaned and kicked his legs like an-admittedly very horny- toddler. Robert stuck his fingers between one of his folds and pinched it in his big hand, and when he shook it, Rich's gut wobbled and swayed like a wave. He moaned around the fingers in his mouth.

"You finished the cake, piggy," Simon said with pride. "Good job. Now, there's just the milkshake left. I'm sure you'll be able to handle it. You've been so good for us so far."

Rich had forgotten all about the milkshake, but he wasn't going to complain. He wasn't as confident about that as he was about the cake, but he could only imagine how that would feel once he finally got it inside him.

He heard chuckling above him, and he opened his eyes to see Sam standing over him, the milkshake in his hand. "I would sit on your lap to feed this to you, but, uh, I don't think there's enough room for me."

When Rich glanced down, he saw to his shock that Sam was right. He had entirely ballooned out, his midsection swollen and fat, his gut sagging down and filling out across his thighs. In other words, he was enormous.

He didn't have time to get over that, because the fingers were being pulled from his mouth and replaced by a straw, and he was sucking and sucking and sucking.

There were two things he noticed right away. 1) How nice the chilled milkshake felt after all that dense cake, and 2) it was the largest milkshake he had ever seen.

He drank it diligently, pull after pull of sweet chocolate, and he could actually feel it settling heavily in his gut. If the cake was already bloating him up, it was nothing compared to when the liquid hit it and made him swell twice the size, soaking into the cake and making it even heavier. He heard the guys cheering him on, but it was only a distant sound, as he was just so concentrated on finishing the milkshake and making them all proud of him. He didn't want to let them down, so he shut his eyes tight and drank more milkshake than he probably should have.

Eventually, after what felt like an eternity, he heard the empty sucking sounds at the bottom of the glass that indicated he had finished every last drop and he pulled away with a gasp. His belly grumbled and rumbled, and he wrapped both hands around it as it pulsed with its own heartbeat and thrummed in mild pain. He was shocked to feel it tight- tighter than he ever thought possible, with no give at all under his hand. He groaned at the sensation, and then suddenly hands were back on him, rubbing vigorously at his massive gut, soothing the pain and kissing away the mess of chocolate and syrup. He huffed and puffed and panted, but was the most aroused he could have been.

"Good piggy," Simon purred, biting at his neck. "You finished it all. You did so well."

He kissed him, then, kissing away the mess on his face and sticking his tongue in Rich's mouth so he had something to mindlessly suck on while the others went about their business. They began to clean up their mess, but someone always had one hand on his belly, rubbing and groping and massaging.

Eventually, Simon pulled away, and Rich looked up at them all, panting as if he had just run a marathon with both hands on either side of his gut. If only he could see himself. His eyes were half-lidded. His mouth was agape, and drool was pouring down his chin. His face was covered in smeared cake and chocolate. He was panting hard, his double chin pressed against his thick chest, his belly rising and falling and jiggling with the harsh moment. In their opinion, he was absolutely gorgeous and debauched, and just he piggy they always knew he was.

Nobody spoke for a good few moments, and Rich was glad for it. He wasn't sure if he could do much talking anyway. He could hardly focus on anything more than his aching, swollen gut.

Finally, Thomas leant forward and ran his finger around Rich's mouth. He opened his mouth instinctively, but Thomas just laughed.

"You did such a good job," he praised, and Rich keened. "You ate a sharing milkshake and a cake for ten. I'm honestly impressed," he rubbed his thumb over Rich's second chin. "I guess you really are our little office piggy."

It took all of Rich's energy to open his mouth and draw a breath, and the other men waited patiently for him to speak. "I would," he licked his lips, his throat thick. "I would like to do this again."

"Oh, don't worry," Thomas smiled. "We will. Get him out of here, boys. He's dead on his feet."

Then without further ado, Robert and Sam began the process of lifting Rich up and out of his chair and onto his feet. He wobbled as they led him, his belly sloshing with all the liquid and digesting cake within, one arm around his waist, to the dark computers lab and laid him down as gently as he could on the couch, but the springs still creaked with the weight. He groaned at the fullness and the weight distribution but sighed contently.

They were speaking to him, kind, loving words that he could feel in his very soul, but he couldn't hear a word they said, because he was already falling fast asleep, trapped in a food coma he could never escape from.

Not only was this the best day of his life, but maybe, just maybe, he really would enjoy- no, not enjoy, relish in- being the office piggy.

The door shut, and he heard, dimly, the other men already talking about what kinds of food they want to buy for their piggy's next feeding session. He fell asleep with a rumbling tummy.

**Author's Note:**

> there was originally supposed to be more people but i lost track at four so


End file.
